CHAPTER V

THE ENGLISH INVADE

The granddaughter of Jack Wyckholme, attended by two maids, her husband and his valet, a clerk from the chambers of Bosworth, Newnes & Grapewin, a red c.o.c.ker, seventeen trunks and a cartload of late novels, which she had been too busy to read at home, was the first of the bewildered legatees to set foot upon the island of j.a.pat. A rather sultry, boresome voyage across the Arabian Sea in a most unhappy steamer which called at j.a.pat on its way to Sidney, depressed her spirits to some extent but not irretrievably.

She was very pretty, very smart and delightfully arrogant after a manner of her own. To begin with, Lady Agnes could see no sensible reason why she should be compelled to abandon a very promising autumn and winter at home, to say nothing of the following season, for the sake of protecting what was rightfully her own against the impudent claims of an unheard-of American.

She complacently informed her solicitors that it was all rubbish; they could arrange, if they would, without forcing her to take this abominable step. Upon reflection, however, and after Mr. Bosworth had pointed out the risk to her, she was ready enough to take the step, although still insisting that it was abominable.

Mr. Saunders was the polite but excessively middle-cla.s.s clerk who went out to keep the legal strings untangled for them. He was soon to discover that his duties were even more comprehensive.

It was he who saw to it that the luggage was transferred to the lighter which came out to the steamer when she dropped anchor off the town of Aratat; it was he who counted the pieces and haggled with the boatmen; it was he who carried off the hand luggage when the native dock boys refused to engage in the work; it was he who unfortunately dropped a suitcase upon the hallowed tail of the red c.o.c.ker, an accident which ever afterward gave him a tenacity of grip that no man could understand; it was he who made all of the inquiries, did all of the necessary swearing, and came last in the procession which wended its indignant way up the long slope to the chateau on the mountain side.

If Lady Deppingham expected a royal welcome from the inhabitants of j.a.pat, she was soon to discover her error. Not only was the pictured scene of welcome missing on the afternoon of her arrival, but an overpowering air of antipathy smote her in the face as she stepped from the lighter--conquest in her smile of conciliation. The att.i.tude of the brown-faced Mohammedans who looked coldly upon the fair visitor was far from amiable. They did not fall down and bob their heads; they did not even incline them in response to her overtures. What was more trying, they glared at the newcomers in a most expressive manner. Lady Deppingham's chin was interrupted in its tilt of defiance by the shudder of alarm which raced through her slender figure. She glanced from right to left down the lines of swarthy islanders, and saw nothing in their faces but surly, bitter unfriendliness. They stood stolidly, stonily at a distance, white-robed lines of resentment personified.

Not a hand was lifted in a.s.sistance to the bewildered visitors; not a word, not a smile of encouragement escaped the lips of the silent throng.

Lady Agnes looked about eagerly in search of a white man's face, but there was none to be seen except in her own party. A moment of panic came to her as she stood there on the pier, almost alone, while Saunders and her husband were engaged in the effort to secure help with the boxes. Behind her lay the friendly ocean; ahead the gorgeous landscape, smiling down upon her with the green glow of poison in its sunny face, dark treachery in its heart. On the instant she realised that these people were her enemies, and that they were the real masters of the island, after all. She found herself wondering whether they meant to settle the question of ownership then and there, before she could so much as set her foot upon the coveted soil at the end of the pier. A hundred knives might hack her to pieces, but even as she shuddered a rush of true British doggedness warmed her blood; after all, she was there to fight for her rights and she would stand her ground. Almost before she realised, the dominant air of superiority which characterises her nation, no matter whither its subjects may roam, crept out above her brief touch of timidity, and she found that she could stare defiantly into the swarthy ranks.

"Is there no British agent here?" she demanded imperatively, perhaps a little more shrilly than usual.

No one deigned to answer; glances of indifference, even scorn, pa.s.sed among the silent lookers-on, but that was all. It was more than her pride could endure. Her smooth cheeks turned a deeper pink and her blue eyes flashed.

"Does no one here understand the English language?" she demanded. "I don't mean you, Mr. Saunders," she added sharply, as the little clerk set the suitcase down abruptly and stepped forward, again fumbling his much-fumbled straw hat. This was the moment when the red c.o.c.ker's tail came to grief. The dog arose with an astonished yelp and fled to his mistress; he had never been so outrageously set upon before in all his pampered life. Seizing the opportunity to vent her feelings upon one who could understand, even as she poured soothings upon the insulted Pong, whom she clasped in her arms, Lady Agnes transformed the unlucky Saunders into a target for a most ably directed volley of wrath. The shadow of a smile swept down the threatening row of dark faces.

Lord Deppingham, a slow and c.u.mbersome young man, stood by nervously fingering his eyegla.s.s. For the first time he felt that the clerk was better than a confounded dog, after all. He surprised every one, his wife most of all, by coolly interfering, not particularly in defence of the clerk but in behalf of the Deppingham dignity.

"My dear," he said, waving Saunders into the background, "I think it was an accident. The dog had no business going to sleep--" he paused and inserted his monocle for the purpose of looking up the precise spot where the accident had occurred.

"He wasn't asleep," cried his wife.

"Then, my dear, he has positively no excuse to offer for getting his tail in the way of the bag. If he was awake and didn't have sense enough--"

"Oh, rubbish!" exclaimed her ladyship. "I suppose you expect the poor darling to apologise."

"All this has nothing to do with the case. We're more interested in learning where we are and where we are to go. Permit me to have a look about."

His wife stared after him in amazement as he walked over to the canvas awning in front of the low dock building, actually elbowing his way through a group of natives. Presently he came back, twisting his left mustache.

"The fellow in there says that the English agent is employed in the bank. It's straight up this street--by Jove, he called it a street, don't you know," he exclaimed, disdainfully eyeing the narrow, dusty pa.s.sage ahead. Here and there a rude house or shop stood directly ahead in the middle of the thoroughfare, with happy disregard for effect or convenience.

"There's the British flag, my lord, just ahead. See the building to the right, sir?" said Mr. Saunders, more respectfully than ever and with real grat.i.tude in his heart.

"So it is! That's where he is. I wonder why he isn't down here to meet us."

"Very likely he didn't know we were coming," said his wife icily.

"Well, we'll look him up. Come along, everybody--Oh, I say, we can't leave this luggage unguarded. They say these fellows are the worst robbers east of London."

It was finally decided, after a rather subdued discussion, that Mr.

Saunders should proceed to the bank and rout out the dilatory representative of the British Government. Saunders looked down the sullen line of faces, and blanched to his toes. He hemmed and hawed and said something about his mother, which was wholly lost upon the barren waste that temporarily stood for a heart in Lord Deppingham's torso.

"Tell him we'll wait here for him," pursued his lordship. "But remind him, d.a.m.n him, that it's inexpressibly hot down here in the sun."

They stood and watched the miserable Saunders tread gingerly up the filthy street, his knees crooking outwardly from time to time, his toes always touching the ground first, very much as if he were contemplating an instantaneous sprint in any direction but the one he was taking. Even the placid Deppingham was somewhat disturbed by the significant glances that followed their emissary as he pa.s.sed by each separate knot of natives. He was distinctly dismayed when a dozen or more of the dark-faced watchers wandered slowly off after Mr. Saunders. It was clearly observed that Mr. Saunders stepped more nimbly after he became aware of this fact.

"I do hope Mr. Saunders will come back alive," murmured Bromley, her ladyship's maid. The others started, for she had voiced the general thought.

"He won't come back at all, Bromley, unless he comes back alive," said his lordship with a smile. It was a well-known fact that he never smiled except when his mind was troubled.

"Goodness, Deppy," said his wife, recognising the symptom, "do you really think there is danger?"

"My dear Aggy, who said there was any danger?" he exclaimed, and quickly looked out to sea. "I rather think we'll enjoy it here," he added after a moment's pause, in which he saw that the steamer was getting under way. The j.a.pat company's tug was returning to the pier. Lord Deppingham sighed and then drew forth his cigarette case. "There!" he went on, peering intently up the street. "Saunders is gone."

"Gone?" half shrieked her ladyship.

"Into the bank," he added, scratching a match.

"Deppy," she said after a moment, "I hope I was not too hard on the poor fellow."

"Perhaps you won't be so nervous if you sit down and look at the sea,"

he said gently, and she immediately knew that he suggested it because he expected a tragedy in the opposite direction. She dropped Pong without another word, and, her face quite serious, seated herself upon the big trunk which he selected. He sat down beside her, and together they watched the long line of smoke far out at sea.

They expected every minute to hear the shouts of a.s.sa.s.sins and the screams of the brave Mr. Saunders. Their apprehensions were sensibly increased by the mysterious actions of the half-naked loiterers. They seemed to consult among themselves for some time after the departure of the clerk, and then, to the horror of the servants, made off in various directions, more than one of them handling his ugly kris in an ominous manner. Bromley was not slow to acquaint his lordship with these movements. Deppingham felt a cold chill shoot up his spine, and he cleared his throat as if to shout after the disappearing steamer. But he maintained a brave front, or, more correctly, a brave back, for he refused to encourage the maid's fears by turning around.

It was broiling hot in the sun, but no one thought of the white umbrellas. Saunders was the epitome of every thought.

"Here he comes!" shouted the valet, joyously forgetting his station. His lordship still stared at the sea. Lady Deppingham's little jaws were shut tight and her fingers were clenched desperately in the effort to maintain the proper dignity before her servants.

"Your lordship," said Mr. Saunders, three minutes later, "this is Mr.

Bowles, his Majesty's agent here. He is come with me to--"

It was then and not until then that his lordship turned his stare from the sea to the clerk and his companion.

"Aw," he interrupted, "glad to see you, I'm sure. Would you be good enough to tell us how we are to reach the--er--chateau, and why the devil we can't get anybody to move our luggage?"

Mr. Bowles, who had lived in j.a.pat for sixteen years, was a tortuously slow Englishman with the curse of the clime still growing upon him. He was half asleep quite a good bit of the time, and wholly asleep during the remainder. A middle-aged man was he, yet he looked sixty. He afterward told Saunders that it seemed to take two days to make one in the beastly climate; that was why he was misled into putting off everything until the second day. The department had sent him out long ago at the request of Mr. Wyckholme; he had lost the energy to give up the post.

"Mr.--er--Mr. Saunders, my lord, has told me that you have been unable to secure a.s.sistance in removing your belongings--" he began politely, but Deppingham interrupted him.

"Where is the chateau? Are there no vans to be had?"

"Everything is transferred by hand, my lord, and the chateau is two miles farther up the side of the mountain. It's quite a walk, sir."